


I bet dinosaurs smelled like expensive cigars

by Nasyat



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Cold Weather, Companionability, Gentleness, Huddling For Warmth, Incidental Love, M/M, Out of Character, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nasyat/pseuds/Nasyat
Summary: A collection of Maxwil ficlets from TumblrYou can drop by - https://nasyatkar.tumblr.com/ and send me a prompt as well! It can be just words, or you can cue a situation, or a line.Edit: I am not very fond of this one, but people seem to have taken enjoyment in reading it... seems unfair to get rid of this little buddy now. I’ll just post the prompted fics separately when they’re done, I think.





	I bet dinosaurs smelled like expensive cigars

**Author's Note:**

> "But imagine tho. Maxwil cuddling. And I'm talking vulnerable, heart-bearing cuddling. Maxwell and Wilson curling up together on a cold night, keeping eachother warm, smushing their dumb faces together, limbs tangled under a blanket, happy to be together." @wolftis
> 
> This wasn't a writing request in itselt, but I felt inspired :'D

It was chilly.

The late autumn pursued them even during the night, biting toes and noses and creeping under the covers. Wilson huddled beneath the fur blanket, curled in on himself, head tucked underneath as well. This seemed to be doing the trick, as the air in the confined space was heating up gradually, warming the little scientist’s freezing frame. He was already starting to drift off, when his ever watchful mind was alerted by the sound of aggressive rustling; Wilson tensed, but then came the familiar under-the-breath cursing and realization that it was Maxwell throwing off his straw covers. There was a moment of intermittent huffing, then he heard the older man crawling up to him in their low tent.

The sound stopped. Wilson kept the pause, and, before the other could say or do anything, muttered,

“Go away, Maxwell. I am not giving you my blanket.”

He was irritated, and tried to sound just as irritated. God, that was so irritating, convinced himself the scientist. The most irritating thing was that he was supposed to be very irritated, and yet he wasn’t, not nearly enough. That irri-

“Higgsbury, I am not after your stupid, smelly blanket. I have a proposal to make.”

Wilson grunted. He didn’t trust any suggestions from the guy. “What do you want?”

“I, well… You are a scientist, you should know that… The best way to warm up is to, to share body heat, and…” The former magician faltered.

Ah, that’s what it was. Not giving in that easily, decided Wilson. “And what does it have to do with me?” he asked, mockingly. Maxwell inhaled sharply, not expecting that answer. The scientist could almost feel his brow knitting and lips pursing. ‘What an old, pathetic fool,’ he thought to himself, attempting to drown out guilt. Wilson fidgeted.

“I… I’m cold, Wilson.” That was said so quietly, so resignedly, yet desperately, that Wilson had to peek from under the covers. His eyes met with the ones of the older man; he was shivering. Wilson blinked. “You know, you can just hide under the straw, with your head, and...” he attempted, unsure, but Maxwell just shook said head.

“I can’t do that. Can’t breathe…” Then, humbly, “…Please.”

That little plea broke Wilson’s resolve, and he opened his improvised cocoon silently. He didn’t have to say anything, as the other climbed in immediately, ducking head under the other's chin and pressing forehead into his shoulder. The scientist stilled, slightly shocked; he blinked with deliberation again. That wasn’t like Maxwell at all, too childish of a gesture. He must’ve been really cold.

Wilson raised his hands and placed them on the other’s drawn up shoulders, then pulled him closer. The former magician eagerly complied. Wow, looks like pride is taking a paid leave here, indeed…

He knew that when cold, blood has trouble circulating throughout the extremities, the further from the heart, the worse. The scientist looked at Maxwell’s schnoz critically. Then pressed his cheek to the damn thing to check the temperature. It was ice, just as he thought. Wilson took a moment to think about ways to warm it up so it doesn’t freeze off; the other could hide it in the smaller man’s neck, it could perhaps fit in between his clavicles… but of course not, that would be way too intimate. Maxwell surprised him by stirring, nuzzling his cold nose and cheeks into his and pushing into the scientist’s puny body. He still had his hands clutched to his own chest, perhaps for warmth, or comfort. So Wilson wrapped his arms around the man himself, one behind the neck and the other on the back, in an awkward, but warm and companionable hug.

Wilson realized that they didn’t sleep all night only when the sun rays dawned through the tent opening. By that time they were tangled up together, arms and legs locked securely. That was a bit… too nice, he thought. Would take a bit of getting used to, in fact. Wilson contemplated that for a while.

“'S nice,” mumbled Maxwell; he was sleepy and tired, but undoubtedly warmer. The other let the smile tug at the corners of his lips, and nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> I have two more requests that I didn't write out so far. I'll get to them in a bit


End file.
